


River

by oyhumbug



Series: Oliver Dearden Series [4]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Allusions to abuse, Angst, Birthdays, Death, Drama, F/M, Family, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Holidays, Ice, Lazarus Pit, Loss, Love, Madness, Mental Illness, Near Future, Outdoor Sex (implied), Paralysis, Playing Outside, Rebirth, References to Torture, Snow, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Winter, allusions to depression, alternative history, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28673241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oyhumbug/pseuds/oyhumbug
Summary: There is a river that meanders through Dearden Farms. It's a place of joy and play for Oliver, Felicity, and their children. It connects them together even when they are apart. For others, that river represents the ultimate disconnect. They could just... skate away.
Relationships: Felicity Smoak & Original Child Character(s), Felicity Smoak & Roy Harper, Malcolm Merlyn & Thea Queen, Nyssa al Ghul/Sara Lance, Oliver Queen & John Diggle, Oliver Queen & Original Child Character(s), Oliver Queen & Roy Harper, Oliver Queen & Sara Lance, Oliver Queen & Thea Queen, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Roy Harper & Connor Hawke, Roy Harper/Sandra Hawke, Thea Queen & Felicity Smoak, Thea Queen & Original Child Character(s), Thea Queen & Roy Harper, Thea Queen & Sara Lance
Series: Oliver Dearden Series [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/622688
Comments: 11
Kudos: 56





	River

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! I believe this will be the final piece of this series. At least in my mind, the story has been building to this for a while, and I always knew that I would eventually use Joni Mitchell's "River" in connection with this little AU world I've created... just as I've always known that a character often asked about and finally featured, Thea, would end up this way. It seemed inevitable after she lost Robert, then Oliver, then Roy, and even eventually her mother, leaving her with just Malcolm Merlyn. While I do not go into any details, be prepared that this one shot comes with several WARNINGS of torture, abuse, paralysis, and suicide. Also, please note that the thoughts expressed about paralysis by one character in this storyline are not my own thoughts. Given the circumstances of the injury, I couldn't actually do any medical research into the condition. Even if I could, though, the disparaging opinions expressed aren't based in any medical knowledge but are emotional and the result of mental illness. I know this all sounds really dark, but this story also has its moments of joy and light, and I believe that it ends on a somewhat sad but hopeful note. As always, enjoy!
> 
> ~Charlynn~
> 
> P.S. Don't worry. There are name explanations at the end in a second author's note. ;-) Trust me, I do enough research for all of us, so you don't need to look up the names as well.

**River  
** **Part Four of the Oliver Dearden Series  
** **An Olicity Holiday One Shot**

_ “Oliver, I don’t know about this...?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Oliver laughed. He couldn’t help it. Looking over at his wife, he found her completely bundled up so that only her eyes were exposed and peeking out at him - eyes so bright and blue he would swear they rivaled the clear, winter sky - and sitting in the snow while Oren literally ran circles around her, making what passed as gliding noises for an almost four year old little boy. “What don’t you know,” he asked her, skating over so that he could stand above and offer her a hand up. But Felicity refused to budge. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “This!” She gestured towards the frozen river where he was supposed to be teaching her how to ice skate. Pouting, Felicity added, “you know I’m not the most coordinated person in the world.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ With a waggle of his sandy brows, Oliver teased, “you have your moments.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ But Felicity was not impressed. Or convinced. “I just think it would be better if I watched from shore. That way, I could hold Abel rather than witness you shave years off my life while you… ice dance with our son - our six month old son! - strapped to your back, and you could focus more on Oren, making sure he doesn’t fall.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Too bad Oren could skate not just circles but figure eights around Oliver. And they both knew it. Wiggling his gloved fingers in invitation, Oliver asked her, “don’t you trust me?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Well…,” his wife shrugged, biting her plush and full bottom lip. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Felicity!,” Oliver yelled, barking out a laugh. “You went into the woods with me… and an axe - alone - before you even knew my name!” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “No, that’s not true,” she argued with him, shaking her head for emphasis. The movement made the yarn ball on top of her pink stocking cap bounce. “We had just introduced ourselves to each other.” Before Oliver could deny that this made any difference to his point, Felicity continued, “plus, we were on solid ground. Ice is, well, ice!” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Trust me, Hon,” Oliver reassured her. “The river is solid.” To emphasize its thickness, Oliver lifted and then rapidly brought down his right leg with as much force as he could. A few shavings of ice came loose, but, otherwise, his efforts failed to produce any results. “Do you honestly think I would allow you or our children anywhere near it if I didn’t think it was safe?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Felicity visibly bristled at his use of the word allow… just as Oliver predicted she would. She knew that he wasn’t actually being patronizing, but, as Oliver intended, his syntax riled her nevertheless. Unfortunately, it wasn’t nearly as distracting as he had hoped. “Unless your name is Kristi, there is absolutely no reason to go out onto the  _ barely _ frozen over water… not when modern food supply chains prevent the need for ice fishing and not when there are zambonis!” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Noticing that Oren was trying to put one of his skates on the wrong foot, Oliver kneeled down into the snow, shot a hand out to wrap around his oldest son’s ankle, and then pulled the giggling, squirming, happy child towards him. While he laced up and then tightly tied Oren’s skates, Oliver continued to flirt with his wife. “Does that mean you want me to build a hockey rink?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “What, no!,” Felicity sputtered, caught off guard by the playful suggestion but immediately shutting it down. “Of course not. I just don’t understand why you’re so insistent that I face plant into the frozen river.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “I’m not going to let you fall, Felicity.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Oh my god,” she gasped, feigning horror and pretending to scoot away from him. “You’re totally going to Jeff Gillooly me!” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Although Oliver knew she was referencing something, he had no idea what. Even if he did understand, Oliver still would have ignored the nonsense coming out of his wife’s mouth, muffled because of the knitted balaclava she wore underneath her hat. “I’m going to hold onto you tightly the entire time.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Ha! Not if I hold onto you first, Mister!” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Chuckling, Oliver said, “that’ll work, too.” Dressed and ready to go, Oren escaped, shooting off as if his parents weren’t even there. Pivoting on his knees so that he could now face Felicity, Oliver didn’t ask for her help in handing him her skates or in taking off her snow boots. While he worked, he talked, relenting somewhat. “If you really don’t want to learn how, I’m not going to force you, Felicity.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “I know that,” she grumbled halfheartedly.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “I just honestly think you’ll enjoy it. If you can walk in those heels of yours, you can balance on a thin blade of steel. Plus,” Oliver went in for the kill, “Oren really wants this to be something we do as a family.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Tilting her head to the side to eye their oblivious child for several pointed beats, Felicity then turned her knowing, perceptive gaze onto him. “Well, if it’s something  _ Oren _ wants.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ With a grin, Oliver released his wife’s feet, planted his fists on the snowy ground, and then pushed himself back up onto his skates. Once he was completely steady, he held his hands out towards his wife in invitation, dragging her up off of the ground and into his arms. Distantly, he recognized the need for them to add some kind of actual seating to this cleared part of the river’s shore - perhaps a bench, especially if, as  _ Oren _ desired, ice skating became a Dearden family tradition. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “You just want me to pop out an entire hockey team,” Felicity bantered before taking her first tentative step onto the ice.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Fifteen minutes later, she was attempting - and executing - her first solo spin.  _

**It's coming on Christmas  
** **They're cutting down trees  
** **They're putting up reindeer  
** **And singing songs of joy and peace  
** **Oh, I wish I had a river  
** **I could skate away on**

“You seem a million miles away, Ollie.”   
  
Blinking, Oliver tried to wipe the memories from his vision. Currently, they were both his saving grace and his damnation. Thoughts of his wife and children kept him grounded and sane, gave him a goal - to return to them as soon as possible, but they were also precious and private. No matter how grateful he might have been towards Sara, he wouldn’t share Felicity and the kids with her. So, with his back towards the room and his old friend, Oliver continued to stare out of the floor to ceiling windows, his gaze locked on the not so distant Starling Bay and the river he knew fed into it. Maybe it wasn’t  _ their  _ river, but it was connected. Somehow, someway, water always was.    
  
In response to Sara’s observation, he merely hummed distractedly, noncommittally.    
  
“Are you okay?,” she pressed him further.   
  
Rather than reply… because how could he be okay? - Oliver had left Felicity at home with their three children, Rina, their youngest, just barely four months old. Roy was with them, but Roy had his own life and a job separate and away from the farm, and, damn it, Roy wasn’t Felicity’s husband or Oren, and Abel, and Rina’s father; Oliver was. But he was needed in Starling  _ more _ . It was life or death, and Felicity had insisted, silently crying the entire time yet always tenacious and unfaltering, unselfish… Oliver changed the subject, posing his own question. “How’s Thea?”   
  
Sara sighed. Oliver could hear her moving around behind him, sitting down on the couch in an exhausted heap, but, still, he didn’t turn around. “We had to sedate her again… after we told her about you. I thought… maybe I was wrong to have the Green Arrow contact you.”   
  
“No, I should be here,” Oliver argued. Shoving his fisted hands even deeper into the pockets of his slacks, he gritted his teeth. “I’m the only one left. Thea is my responsibility.”   
  
“If she’s just a  _ responsibility  _ for you, Ollie, then you’re definitely not who she needs.”   
  
Spinning around to glare at her, Oliver asked, “and who else is going to take care of my paralyzed, deranged sister, Sara?” Before she could reply, he listed and then refuted by his dismissive tone alone all of the other non-options. “You? Your  _ Demon’s Head _ girlfriend? The Green Arrow and his team already have their hands full trying to clean up the mess that Thea and Merlyn created together. Our Mother is dead, our Dad has long been dead, and Merlyn is finally dead. Even if he wasn’t, Thea is in that bed, because her father  _ literally  _ turned his sword against her. Are you suggesting that we turn Thea over to ARGUS? Maybe she can join their Task Force X after she gets the hang of using her new wheelchair.”   
  
“Alright, you’ve made your point.” Watching him closely in contemplation, Sara asked, “do you think Nyssa and I made a mistake, saving Thea?”   
  
Oliver honestly couldn’t answer that… not because, despite every horrible thing she had done, he didn’t see value in his sister’s life - he still did, and he always would, but because he wasn’t sure if whatever was inside of her broken body was still Thea. Rather than voice this out loud, he queried, “why exactly did you help her?”   
  
Sara shrugged. “I guess I felt sorry for her.” At Oliver’s disbelieving look, she expanded upon her surprising statement. “Despite all of the material advantages handed to her, Thea did not have an easy life. She lost you and your Dad when she was twelve years old. Maybe you didn’t die, but that kind of loss…?” In her pause, Oliver could hear Sara’s regrets about what her own family had suffered during the years they believed her to be lost to them forever. “Even after she found out that Malcolm was her biological father, she held out for as long as she could. But without you….”    
  
At his scoff, Sara held up a hand, pleading with him for patience. “I’m not saying that you didn’t have  _ every  _ right to leave, to start a new life, to, hell,  _ have  _ a life. And I’m sure you did everything you could to try and stay a part of Thea’s. After that boyfriend of hers skipped town, though, she just… she couldn’t fight your mom  _ and  _ Malcolm any longer. Thea was never someone who did well on her own. Once she embraced Malcolm as her family… and everything else that came with it, he doted on her. He delighted in her darkness, and he encouraged all of her worst qualities… until Thea  _ Queen  _ was completely eclipsed by Thea  _ Merlyn _ and, then, he no longer had use for her.”   
  
Standing to pace, Sara’s tone became more introspective than observational, and her words started coming faster and faster. “But I swear, Ollie, when I was standing over her on that rooftop, for just a second, I… she was  _ Thea  _ again - our Thea,  _ your  _ Thea.  _ Speedy _ . And I just… acted. If there was even just the slightest chance that she could recover from all of the horrible things Malcolm did to and made of her, then I had to try. After I drowned the second time and Nyssa brought me into The League, it wasn’t perfect - god, far from it! But it was a second chance… just like you got a second chance when you changed your name to Dearden and moved out to the mountains, just like you gave Roy and John second chances when they came to you.”   
  
Rigid with tension, he stared at her darkly. “How do you…?”   
  
“Oh come on, Ollie.  _ Of course  _ I know! And since it’s just the two of us right now, I thought we could dispense with all of the formalities and code names.” At his terse nod, Sara returned to her point. “Helping Thea wasn’t about paying off some cosmic debt. Hell, it wasn’t about me at all. It was her turn for a second chance, and I could give that to her. So, I did.”   
  
“But you didn’t just give her a second chance; you gave her  _ life _ . By your own account, Thea  _ died. _ I don’t understand….”   
  
“Through The League, I have come to learn that there are things in this world that cannot be explained. Magic. Nexus chambers. Lazarus pits. The water from a Lazarus pit is very powerful. In small doses, it can prolong life, heal small wounds. To submerge a body in a Lazarus pit is to see it reborn. But just as its waters give, it also takes. Compassion, mostly. But also sometimes sanity. With Thea,” Sara stopped her agitated walking and came to stand behind, leaning against the sofa. “Nyssa and I walked a fine line. Too much exposure and she might emerge without her mind; too little and she might never walk again. Not only was Thea legally dead when he put her into that pit, but her spinal cord had been completely severed. There are no instructions.” Affecting a light and airy voice, Sara mocked, “ _ for a body nearly sliced in two, simmer in the waters for eight minutes and thirty five seconds.”  _ Bowing her head, she finished on a whisper, “we did our best, Ollie.”   
  
“Well, your best resulted in both derangement and paralysis.” He knew what he said to be cruel, but there were just some things humans, no matter how good their intentions, had no business interfering with, and death was one of them. But then Oliver thought about his son, about his bright and beautiful baby boy, Abel, about how he was born with his umbilical cord wrapped around his neck - blue, and still, and lifeless. In those harrowing seconds when he watched on in horror while Felicity sobbed for her baby and the doctor and nurses circled the infant as they tried to breathe life back into him, if Oliver had been given the same impossible options - interfere with death or risk losing his child, Felicity’s child,  _ their  _ child, he knew there would have been no choice to make. And Sara had faced that for  _ his  _ sister, not hers - a woman who had, prior to being stabbed in the back by her own father, tried to kill Sara and her loved ones too many times to count. “I’m sorry,” Oliver apologized without prompting, his own thoughts chastisement enough. “That was uncalled for.”   
  
“But also not entirely wrong,” Sara allowed. Standing up straight, she folded her arms across her chest, signaling the end of any displays of emotion on her part. “The madness should continue to dissipate. Before you arrived, Thea had moments of lucidity, of clarity. She seems to know who she is and what she’s done… even if she cannot entirely connect with her identity or her actions emotionally yet. But the paralysis will be permanent. For as much damage as her body had suffered, I’m not sure any amount of time in the pit could have repaired it. So, she’s going to need therapy - certainly occupational, probably physical, and definitely psychotherapy. Because she’s legally dead - and she needs to stay that way for  _ all  _ of our sakes but most especially her own, you’re going to need to be… discriminatory. For her body, I can help. I… know a guy. But for her mind…?”   
  
“You say all of this, Sara, like you’re not going to be here, like… your mitzvah has been done, so you’re washing your hands of it. Of her.”   
  
With a crooked, curious smile, Sara taunted, “a  _ mitzvah _ , Ollie?”   
  
Despite himself, Oliver blushed. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to keep Felicity and the children separate and safe from Sara, from Starling City, from… everything he was now facing, by necessity, on his own. They were a part of him, and, apparently, they would find ways to remind him of that when he least expected… but probably needed it the most. Clearing his throat and looking away, he mumbled, “you know what I mean.”   
  
Leaving it alone, Sara explained, “I’ve already been away for too long. There are so many things….” Her voice trailed off and then she started again a second later, sounding more sure of herself. “The fight never ends, and my team needs me. I only stayed with Thea until now” -  _ until you finally arrived _ went unsaid - “because she couldn’t be here on her own. Plus, unlike any other member of Team Arrow, I at least had some idea of what was happening to her.”   
  
As Oliver watched his old friend gather up her few belongings - a leather jacket, a black shoulder bag, and a mask, he found himself asking the most selfish of questions. “How long?” Thea had  _ died _ after years of manipulation that verged on torture, and now she was fighting through the hell that was her own fractured psyche and against her broken body, but all Oliver could think about was going home. “How long until she can…?” He stopped, because he wasn’t even sure what he was asking.  _ How long until she could function? Until her mind returns for good? Until he could leave her again? Or until, if necessary, she could travel back with him?  _ “How long?”   
  
Sara didn’t even bother answering him. Instead, she simply offered Oliver a sympathetic sigh and watery smile before slipping out of the penthouse’s door.    
  
And then he was alone.   
  
Because, even if Thea had been awake and aware, she had become a stranger to Oliver years before she ever became a stranger to herself. 

**But it don't snow here  
** **It stays pretty green  
** **I'm going to make a lot of money  
** **Then I'm going to quit this crazy scene  
** **I wish I had a river  
** **I could skate away on**

_ Felicity was a cuddler - both intentionally and unintentionally. And Oliver loved anything that brought and then kept his wife close to him. But her habit of slapping his face or kneeing him in the hip in her quests to seek, find, and absorb his body heat had an additional advantage beyond her nearness. It eventually helped Oliver become more comfortable while asleep. At rest, he no longer felt vulnerable. He could be awakened out of a deep sleep without being startled. As they started to have children, his newfound ease helped the babies’ late night cries become a natural part of parenthood and not a reason to be alarmed.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ But there were still some instincts, a learned level of keenness, that Oliver would never lose no matter how many years of wedded bliss he shared with Felicity, how many nights he spent safe in her arms. So, when Oren started crying early in the morning on the day of his sixth birthday, Oliver heard him even in his sleep, waking promptly yet easily and without more dread than that of a father concerned for his son. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Slipping as gently as he could from bed so as not to wake Felicity, Oliver crept down the hall towards his oldest child’s room. He anticipated finding Oren hiding completely under his covers after waking from a nightmare, but, instead, the little boy was standing in front of one of his bedroom windows, looking out at the blizzard that was greeting them that February predawn. Between his choked sobs, Oren would hiccup and sniffle, using the sleeve of his pajamas to wipe at his nose and his falling tears. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Hey, Buddy,” Oliver softly greeted his son as he moved on silent feet into the room. Oren turned towards him with the most forlorn look upon his face, and Oliver’s heart just… seized in love and tenderness. “What’s wrong?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Lower lip trembling, the now six year old turned to point at the rapidly accumulating and even more rapidly falling snow. “My… my… party!” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Ah,” Oliver remarked in realization and sympathy. “Yeah, we’re going to need to postpone it, huh?” If possible, Oren’s little shoulders fell even more as he nodded in resigned agreement. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not still going to celebrate your birthday today. It doesn’t mean that we’re not going to have so much fun. It’ll just be us, though - you, me, your mom, Abel, Uncle Roy, and Val. And then you can have a  _ second whole day  _ all about you when all of your friends can come and celebrate your birthday.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Oliver could tell that Oren wasn’t completely sold yet, but he was curious. “Really?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Oh, absolutely!” At his little boy’s hesitant smile, Oliver suggested, “If it’s going to snow all day, then I say we take advantage of it. I’m thinking we build a fire down in the clearing. We’ll have camp pies for breakfast, hot dogs for lunch, and s’mores for dessert. We’ll go sled riding, and we’ll build a whole snow family, and I’ll make some of Mommy’s favorite hot chocolate and get the horses and the sleigh out to go for a ride. Then, after we spend the whole day playing outside, we’ll come in, make pizza for dinner, open  _ all  _ of your presents, and have a family movie and games night. I already made your birthday cake, but I’m wondering if maybe we should have ice cream sundaes with it as well. What do you think?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “Can we go in the bubble tub, too?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ That’s what the boys called the hot tub Oliver had installed out on the back deck several years prior. Felicity wouldn’t be able to get in. She was three months pregnant, and the boys knew, but at six and two and a half, they wouldn’t understand how her still flat belly could prevent her from joining them. But Oliver didn’t say any of that. Instead, as the good parent he prided himself in being, he offered an appealing alternative. “We can… but just the boys, yeah? That way, we can get the basketball hoop out. With Mom and Val inside, getting warm by the fire, we  _ men  _ can splash as much as we want!” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ At that point, Oren was so excited about their family fun birthday extravaganza that the only way Oliver could convince him to go back to sleep was to allow him to crawl into bed with him and Felicity. But the six year old would need his rest if they were going to do everything Oliver had suggested; much like Felicity, it was best to allow Abel to wake at his own pace; and it was still dark outside, the sluggish and overcast, cloudy and gray February dawn still hours away from full morning.  _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Snuggled between both of his parents, it took mere minutes for Oren to once more fall asleep. Felicity never woke, and Oliver managed to join them in slumber after listening to his wife and son’s easy, even breathing, their occasional, whimpered snores. By the time they made it down to the river, supplies for their day gathered and fire built, the snow had stopped. Eighteen inches had fallen during the night. No doubt roads were being plowed in town, but it would take some time before the crews made their way out to Dearden Farms. For at least a little while longer, they would be completely and totally isolated, but they were prepared for such situations. Now that Roy was a certified paramedic, Oliver didn’t mind the fact that he and his family were practically stranded on their own land. In fact, he preferred it. _ _  
_ _  
_ _ “So, what do you think the chances are of this impromptu celebration making Oren completely forget about the kids party we planned for him?” While Oren and Abel were busy burying Roy in the snow, Oliver and Felicity were splayed out on their backs side by side, hands gripped between them in mid-sweep as they had been making snow angels before the boys, all three of them, became distracted. Twisting his head to the side to smile at his wife, Oliver found her scowling, though there was no actual heat in the look. “I love  _ our  _ six year old so much that it sometimes feels like my chest could just… burst. But, conversely, the idea of entertaining  _ other people’s  _ six year olds - fifteen of them! - makes my morning sickness come back again with a vengeance.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ With her first two pregnancies, Felicity occasionally suffered from nausea, but, this time, she barely managed to keep anything down - morning, noon, or night - for months. It was only within the last week that she’d felt her appetite slowly returning. Consequently, Oliver was convinced that she was carrying their first daughter. “He’s pretty happy with today… all things considered,” Oliver allowed with a straight face. Then he flashed her a dimpled, crooked smile. “But you know what you have to do if you  _ really  _ want to make his birthday special enough to distract him from wanting to reschedule his party.” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Felicity rolled her eyes, and she stomped her booted feet as well as she could while reclined in the snow, and she grumbled unintelligibly under her breath for several moments before she eventually relented. “Fine,” his wife huffed. As she sat up, she reached over and slugged Oliver in the shoulder. Normally, he’d barely feel such a thump from her, but, with the added padding of his winter layers, it felt more like a love tap than anything else. “Oren, Sweetheart, will you please come here for a minute?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ As soon as his mother called for him, Oren climbed to his feet and ran towards them. As Felicity talked to their son, Oliver jumped up into a standing position, bending down to place an adoring kiss upon her beanie covered brow. “So, your Daddy and I have been talking and….” Although Felicity was technically correct - they  _ had  _ just been talking, her words were also misleading, because there had been little actual conversation about what she was about to announce. “We’ve decided that you are now old enough to ride on the snowmobile with Daddy.” Oren was so thrilled with the news, so electrified, that he started hopping up and down even before Felicity finished talking. “Now, he’s going to go slow, and you will stay at lower elevations. There will be no tricks, no going on the road, and you will not drive  _ or  _ steer under any circumstances.” Glancing back and forth between father and son, she all but demanded to know, “do I make myself clear?” _ _  
_ _  
_ _ In answer, Oren screamed, “Best! Birthday! Ever!,” before immediately taking off for where Abel was sitting on top of a buried Roy... like his Uncle was actually a throne, the older brother wanting to brag to the younger.  _

**I wish I had a river so long  
** **I would teach my feet to fly  
** **Oh, I wish I had a river  
** **I could skate away on  
** **I made my baby cry**

Oliver was talking even before he could see his son’s sweet, precious face. “The big seven, huh? I bet this birthday was even better than last year’s!”   
  
“Hey, Hon,” it was Felicity who greeted him instead. “It’s just me.”   
  
“It’s never  _ just  _ you,” he refuted.    
  
His wife tried to give him a smile in response, but her beautiful face was stuck in its sadness. “It’s been a… rough day here.” Without needing to ask, Oliver knew that, whatever had happened, he was at fault. When he left home for Starling just before the holidays, he never thought he’d be gone for two months. What was worse, he had no idea when he’d be able to return to his family. Felicity would never blame him. In fact, she did everything within her considerable power to reassure him that he was doing the right thing, to bolster his patience and his faith. But Oliver blamed himself, because, no matter the reasons, he wasn’t with them, which was where he was supposed to be. Always. “Oren refused to celebrate his birthday. It didn’t matter what I tried to tempt him with, he couldn’t be moved.”   
  
Under any other circumstances, Oliver and Felicity would have engaged in debate as to who was more to blame for their oldest child’s stubborn streak… even if they knew that they were both responsible and Oren doubly cursed. But their seven year old skipping his birthday because his Daddy couldn’t be there with him did absolutely nothing to inspire either Oliver or Felicity’s usual fondness for flirting. “God, Felicity, I should have found a way to come home, no matter what… even if I had to drag Thea’s hospital bed behind me the whole way.”   
  
“We both know that Thea isn’t ready for that,” Felicity argued with him. As they Facetimed, she made her way through the house, checking on the two younger children before pulling on her winter wear and heading outside towards the boys’ treehouse. It was a miniature replica of their log cabin. Just as Oliver had built their home, he had also built the elevated fort. “Heck, none of us are - not Roy, not you, not me, and certainly not the kids.”   
  
“Yeah, but look at what I’m missing, what I’m doing to our family.”   
  
“Thea’s our family, too,” Felicity contended softly. She was now climbing the ladder into the tree, so she had pocketed her phone momentarily. He could no longer see her, but they could still talk.    
  
She was. She absolutely was. Felicity was right. But she was also wrong, because there was a difference, too. Oliver loved his sister, and he always would… no matter what she did. The memories alone from their childhood, he would always treasure. But his wife and children were just…  _ more _ , his family with them  _ greater _ . “Did I do the right thing, coming here?” He knew that he was being needy to ask her for even more comfort and encouragement, but sometimes he wondered if all of his efforts with Thea were in vain. Her mind was her own once again, but she was so… mentally and emotionally fractured. “Sometimes I wonder….”   
  
“When it comes to the people we love when they need us, there is no right or wrong thing; there’s just the  _ only  _ thing, and that’s exactly what you’re doing.” With cell back in hand, Felicity ducked her way into the clubhouse. “Hey, Oren. I have someone here who wants to speak with you.” With that, she handed the device to their seven year old.   
  
His son was holding Felicity’s phone, but he didn’t talk, and he refused to look up from his lap. Oren was sitting on the floor of his fort. Any other treehouse and Oliver would have been worried about his warmth, but Oliver - in his own way just as indulgent as his parents before him - had made sure that the place where his kids would play, fostering their imagination, was heated. Off camera, he heard Felicity murmur, “I’m going back to the house now, Sweetheart. When you’re done talking to Daddy, bring my phone inside for me, okay?”   
  
Oren nodded - a short, single bob of his head. And then it was just the two of them, stretched over a thousand miles apart and feeling every inch of distance. Softening his voice so that his oldest child wouldn’t worry he was in trouble but also not wanting to rouse Thea’s attention from the other room, Oliver gently offered, “want to tell me what’s wrong?” He waited for well over a minute, but his little boy neither looked at him nor responded. “I know it has been difficult - actually, no,” Oliver stopped himself from feeding his son a trite sentiment that would in no way cover just how awful it was for their family to be separated. “This, me being away? It  _ sucks _ !” In shock - because that was a word he and his brother were not allowed to use, Oren’s gaze rocketed up towards the screen. If Oliver knew he’d receive such a reaction and then took advantage of it accordingly, he felt the slight manipulation worth it, because he needed to find some way to connect with his child in that moment.    
  
“Mommy’s always sad,” Oren admitted. A fat tear dashed down one of his still chubby cheeks, but he wiped it away hastily. With those three words, it was like the flood gate lifted, and out poured a deluge of confessions. “Uncle Roy just seems angry, and Rina doesn’t understand, but Abel asks for you all the time, and that just makes Mommy cry more. I tried to explain it to him, but….”   
  
“But,” Oliver prompted his oldest, wanting him to continue even if the truth of his absence was leaving millions of tiny, invisible cuts upon his heart.    
  
Eyes filling with clouds of tears - tears that Oren refused to let fall - and teeth biting his bottom lip… just like his mom, the little boy whispered an accusation that made Oliver want to cry, too. “You lied.”   
  
“No,” he denied instantaneously, shaking his head emphatically. “I did not lie to you. I have  _ never  _ lied to you.”    
  
And he never would. It was a promise Oliver made to himself when he and Felicity decided that they wanted children together. Time and distance had dulled some of his bitterness towards his own parents and how he had been raised. Because Oliver could see the silver lining of living through hell for five years - his experiences made him a better man  _ and  _ eventually led him to his wife, he didn’t hate his mother or his father for their actions which led to his being lost at sea and presumed dead. Some of them were misguided and some of them were just wrong, but none of them - at least none prior to the sinking of the Gambit - had been malicious. But he did still resent their lies - always would. Maybe if Robert and Moira Queen had just told the truth, so many other lives wouldn’t have been ruined… or even lost as well. Oliver had paid dearly for the sins of his parents, but he simply couldn’t atone for every person harmed by his family. And now to add Thea’s transgressions….   
  
With a quiet sniffle, Oren pulled his father away from his dark thoughts and back into the present. “When I asked you about Starling City, you said that, if I just followed the river, it would lead me to you. I waited all this time - until my birthday - to try it. This morning, I got up really early, and I climbed the tallest tree. I was up  _ super high _ , Daddy. When I was up there, I traced the river with my eyes like Mommy has Abel trace his letters with crayons. I even used the peepers” - that’s what the boys called binoculars - “that Santa brought me, but I couldn’t see you, Daddy. You weren’t there - on my birthday, and I just… was sad, too sad to open presents, or eat cake, or have a party. Because I’m supposed to do all those things with  _ you _ .”   
  
Oren was so much like Oliver in looks and mannerisms that sometimes he could forget that his oldest son had his fair share of his mother in him, too. Oliver should have known that the boy would take his remarks about the river - the river that was so important to and such a big part of their lives as a family - literally. But he didn’t try to explain the difference between figurative and literal. Rather, Oliver said, “water is always connected. Where our river ends, something else - a stream, a pond, a lake - begins. Onward and onward. Sometimes, it’s below ground… like a spring, and sometimes you think the connection is dried up and gone, but then it rains again, and that shallow ditch becomes a slowly moving creek. Water just doesn’t go down our mountains; it also goes through and around them… all the way to Starling City. You might not be able to see it - or me - with your binoculars, not even with Mommy’s telescope, but it’s there. I’m looking at the water right now,” Oliver reassured his seven year old. It might have been green instead of white where he was - Starling City, always wet but rarely frozen, but Starling Bay and what flowed beyond it could still make Oliver think of home.   
  
Swallowing thickly to force down his emotions, Oliver continued, “I’m looking at the water,  _ and  _ I’m looking at you… just like you’re looking at me. It’s not perfect. It’s not what either of us wants, not any day but especially not  _ today - your birthday _ . And I’m  _ so  _ sorry, Oren; I’m so sorry. I would give up  _ anything  _ to be there with you… anything  _ except  _ someone from our family. And my sister, Thea? Your Aunt? She’s our family, too.”   
  
“But we’ve never even met her before.”   
  
“She was hurt really badly, Buddy, and she’s been sick for a long time.” Oren would think that Thea was prone to ear infections like his friend who had to get tubes put in his ears, or he would believe that she simply caught every bug going around… like so many of his classmates with lesser immune systems. And that was alright, because Oliver wasn’t lying to him, and his innocent assumptions would spare him from the knowledge that his Aunt had been battling… and continued to battle… mental illness for years. “When I come home, though…,”   
  
“When Daddy,” his son interrupted him, pleading with him. “When will you be coming home?”   
  
“Soon, Buddy,” he answered. Oliver had to twist up his face to fight off a sob. His throat felt both thick with emotion and fiery with unshed tears. “I hope really soon. And, when I do, your Aunt Thea will be coming home with me. To stay.” Because, as awful as it sounded, there just wasn’t another option.    
  
“But, for now, I need you to do something for me, alright?” At Oren’s quick, agreeable nod, Oliver instructed, “I need you to let your family celebrate your birthday with you. Even if Mommy’s sad, and Uncle Roy is angry, and Abel is confused, none of them are feeling that way because of you.  _ You  _ make them  _ so  _ happy! So, be happy. Together. Blow out your candles and make a wish. Eat as much ice cream cake… it is ice cream cake, right? Mommy didn’t try to bake you a cake?”   
  
At his little boy’s lighthearted laugh, Olive smiled. “No, she didn’t. When we went to the grocery store last week, she tried to put one of those box mixes in the cart, but I stopped her.” Oren sounded so proud… which was deserved. While it paled in comparison to not being able to be with his wife and children, Oliver feared for their diet in his absence as well.    
  
“Good job, Son,” he complimented. “Back to your tasks, though,” Oliver feigned seriousness once again. It wasn’t very difficult, seeing as how any levity he had expressed had been forced for his oldest child’s benefit and empty. “Eat as much cake as you can, and, most importantly, open your presents. There might even be one or two of them just from me, not your Mom. She didn’t even wrap them for….”   
  
“I hope you signed the card from Aunt Thea, seeing how you’ve been going through  _ my money _ !”   
  
Oliver never even heard her approach. How that was possible when she was confined to a wheelchair, he didn’t know. Even paralyzed, apparently, Thea still retained some of the skills she had learned from her mass murdering, assassin father. And, now, because of Oliver’s careless distraction, the first interaction Oren ever shared with his Aunt was an ugly one. The seven year old looked absolutely devastated - confused, scared, dejected, and dismayed, and any progress Oliver had made in buoying his spirits had been erased. Oliver just hoped that the camera on his phone had not caught a glimpse of Thea as well as picking up her voice, because she looked profoundly dangerous and rabid.   
  
As quickly as he could, Oliver moved away from his sister, putting the couch between them as he rushed to say goodbye to his son. “I’m sorry, but I need to go now, Oren. I love you. Give your Mommy, Abel, and Rina a kiss for me, okay? And I’ll call you again as soon as I can.” As soon as he could make sure Thea wouldn’t be able to sabotage it again. “Happy Birthday, Buddy.”   
  
With a single tap, Oliver closed the Facetime app, stowing his phone away in the front, right pocket of his pants. His actions took no more than a few seconds, and that was all the time he needed to wipe every last trace of emotion from his voice. Speaking evenly, flatly, and without any inflection whatsoever, Oliver said, “I wish you wouldn’t have done that, Thea.” He no longer called her Speedy. Maybe Sara and her Lazarus Pit had somehow managed to rebirth Thea, but Speedy had died the moment that sword sliced through her spinal cord - maybe even before then, and she was never coming back.    
  
“I want my money.”   
  
Feigning ignorance, Oliver queried, “what money?”   
  
Thea glared at him. Unblinking, her face a livid shade of red, she screamed, “ _ my  _ money.  _ My  _ inheritances.” She was so angry that her voice shook, and Oliver could see the straining cords of her neck.    
  
“You’re dead, Thea. Legally dead. There’s a grave with your coffin in it, a tombstone with your name.” Oliver wasn’t being cruel; he was being factual and realistic. “When you died without a will, state law dictated that your estate go to your spouse or partner, neither of which you had, and then to your nearest blood relation. Me. So, it’s not  _ your  _ money; it’s  _ mine _ .”    
  
While Oliver talked, he watched as his sister's hands folded in upon themselves. But she didn’t make them into fists. Rather, she bent her fingers, arced them, stiffened the still graceful appendages until they formed rigid and unforgiving claws. Hands that should have been delicate for their size and for their shape instead looked brittle and distorted. A low, menacing growl rumbled through, and up, and out of her chest, curling her lips into a snarl and baring her teeth in a grimace. “But I neither have want nor need of it. So, I’m giving it away.” When Thea went to object - no doubt spewing something both insulting and deriding, Oliver raised his voice, talking over her. “It won’t fix what you’ve broken or replace what you have taken. You robbed, and you menaced, and you tortured, and you  _ killed _ , Thea. Nothing can make that better, especially not some spoiled socialite turned sociopath’s blood money, inherited from her terrorist father and his enabling wife.”   
  
Walking over so that he could kneel down directly in front of her, Oliver wanted to look Thea in her eyes, not only to express his sincerity but to see if he could recognize even a flicker of an emotion other than rage. “You did nothing to warrant that money, but you did so many things that made other people deserving of it. Every last penny will be donated - either to charities or directly to causes that need it in order to do good in this city - to help and heal where you only harmed.” A sizable portion of Thea’s wealth had already been siphoned into the numerous offshore accounts Felicity had, years prior, set up for the Green Arrow and his team. Not only was Oliver only too glad to help in his friend’s mission… even if only financially, but he also appreciated the irony of one of Team Arrow’s worst opponents now bankrolling their efforts to keep fighting people like Thea, and Malcolm, and even his Mother.    
  
“Until you can support yourself - my wife will create a new identity for you, and she’ll be your biggest champion, encouraging you to be and do anything you want, if you let her, Felicity and I, through the profits of our hard work, not the trust fund I gave away years ago,” - that tarnished legacy was Team Arrow’s seed money - “will provide you with whatever you need.”   
  
Thea glowered at him darkly. If looks could kill, no magical healing waters would be capable of reviving Oliver in that moment. “I  _ hate  _ you,” his sister spat at him.    
  
“I know.” Then, before he could say or even stand, Thea lashed out the only way her broken body would allow her: she rammed her wheelchair into Oliver, catching him off guard and making him crash to the floor before skirting around him, leaving the room, and rolling deeper into the penthouse. Without bothering to get up, Oliver shifted so that he could lean against the sofa - his legs bent at the knees before him. Rubbing his hands over his face, Oliver tried to fight away his exhaustion. “I know,” he whispered to himself, accepting his sister’s declaration for the truth it was.    
  
Hanging his head in resignation, Oliver sighed. 

**He tried hard to help me  
** **You know, he put me at ease  
** **And he loved me so naughty  
** **Made me weak in the knees  
** **Oh, I wish I had a river  
** **I could skate away on**

“Oliver, no! Don’t you dare!”   
  
Ignoring his wife and chuckling, Oliver lifted her from the blanket where she and the kids were laying, flipped her over his shoulder like she weighed no more than his beach towel, and then promptly marched towards the river. “I want you to play in the water with me, and there was no way you’d do so without a little… persuasion.”   
  
“This isn’t persuasion; this is coercion,” she protested hotly. “Completely against my will, under duress, pure muscle intimidation!”   
  
“Don’t you mean seduction?” Oliver’s hand slipped beneath the edge of his wife’s bikini bottoms with a gentle caress, while she, in turn, pinched his ass through his trunks. Violently. “Hey! Ow!”   
  
“I don’t care if it is August and hotter than an Arabian desert summer out here. In there, in that water? It’s still March in the mountains.” Before Oliver could offer an argument, Felicity warned, “and I don’t want to hear ‘ _ I’ll keep you warm, Hon, _ ’” she badly tried to imitate his voice, “in that…  _ tone  _ you use.”   
  
“What tone?”   
  
“You know,” Felicity waved a hand like it was obvious. “ _ The  _ tone. The tone that gave me our three beautiful,  _ carefully spaced apart _ children. Rina won’t be a year old until next week, Oliver. You can’t use that tone again for another fifteen months, minimum.”   
  
But it was too late. Despite all of Felicity’s bluster, there was no bite to her cautions, and Oliver knew that. So, while he might have set her back down gently, he didn’t do so until he was standing chest deep in the…  _ bracing _ river water. Felicity immediately shivered, but she made no move to escape his arms which were encircled low around her hips, his hands clasped together at the small of her back. “Oliver, our children are asleep on the shore!”   
  
With a sure and sunny smile lighting up his face, Oliver asked, “whatever are you saying, Honey?”    
  
“I’m saying that we are not...,” Felicity lowered her voice, though it was still louder than a whisper, “...  _ having sex  _ while our children nap twenty yards away!”   
  
He feigned innocence. “Who said anything about us  _ making love _ ?”   
  
Felicity leveled him with a pointed, accusing look. “You did.” She took a hand off of his shoulder to wave it dramatically in the air. “You said it with your eyes. And your hands. And your abs. They speak to me, Oliver, very loudly.” At some point during her listing, Felicity somehow ended up with her legs wrapped around her husband’s waist, his fingers separating so as to cup her firm, round ass. And then he was leaning down towards her, closer and closer and….   
  
“Yeah, I really wouldn’t watch any more of that if I was you.”   
  
“Why,” Thea barked, turning her head away from the provocative scene below her to look up and glare at her ex. “Because he’s my brother, and it’s creepy?”   
  
“Well, yeah,” Roy agreed, but it was almost as though the thought hadn’t occurred to him until Thea mentioned it. “But also because why do that to yourself? It has to hurt… to see them like that.”   
  
“Oh,” Thea mocked, rolling her eyes. “I get it. This is you feeling sorry for the cripple who will never have another orgasm.”   
  
“God, Thea, no!,” he denied. Thea just turned away from him, though she didn’t look back down at the river either. Instead, she just stared off into the neverending, afternoon horizon, not wanting to see Roy’s pity or her brother’s happiness. “It’s not like that. But I also don’t think we should… talk about  _ that _ .”   
  
“Do thoughts of me naked disgust you that much, Harper?”   
  
“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, showing an edge for the first time since she joined him and  _ his  _ family on the mountain. “That’s not my name - hasn’t been for years now.”    
  
Thea refused to acknowledge his rebuke. Roy might go by Dearden - Oliver’s younger  _ cousin _ , but, for her, he would always be that kid in the red hoodie with a chip on his shoulder larger than her walk-in-closet. When she didn’t comment, she thought he would leave. He didn’t. “What?!”   
  
The sheer amount of demand in her tone made her ex scoff. “You know, if you would just give this place even half a chance, you might be surprised by how good it could be for you.”   
  
“So I can fall in love with some ditzy blonde and pop out a passel of brats, too?” Thea gasped in fake surprise. “Oh, wait. I  _ can’t _ . Because. I’m. Paralyzed.”   
  
“Yeah, I’m starting to realize that.”   
  
“What,” Thea laughed at him. It was an ugly sound, devoid of any humor. “The wheelchair didn’t give it away?”   
  
“I’m not talking about your legs, Thea; I’m talking about your heart. It obviously cannot be moved, which is why it helps no one for you to watch Oliver and Felicity together. They’re… I didn’t know relationships like theirs existed until I saw them together. They’re  _ beautiful _ . But, if your head’s not right, watching a couple like that can wreck you. Trust me, those first few months I was here….” Roy’s words trailed off as he allowed them both to sit with everything he had just said and the little of his own pain he had just admitted. When he spoke again, Thea would have sworn his voice contained a note of provocation. “It’s not your injury preventing you from finding love again.”   
  
“Please don’t tell me you’re offering,” she taunted. “Because… been there, dumped that.”    
  
That wasn’t exactly how their relationship had ended. When Roy got in trouble with the law, Thea sent him to Oliver. Despite the fact that it was her idea, she resented him for agreeing to it, for leaving. And then she resented him for the connection he had to the brother she had all but disowned because she wasn’t enough for him to stay either. By the time Thea realized that Roy was never coming home - that home wasn’t her anymore but Oliver, and Dearden Farms, and Oliver’s wife and children, she revised their history, claiming she broke up with Roy after slumming it lost its appeal. Thea had told the edited version of the story so many times that she almost believed it herself now. Almost.   
  
“No,” Roy simply denied. Thea was trying to provoke him into hurting her in return, but nothing she said could break through his detachment. “But I’d like to be your friend.”   
  
“I don’t need your friendship, just like I don’t need your pity.”   
  
“But you do, Thea,” Roy contended. She whipped her head to the side to glare at him, hoping it would be dark enough to send him packing… only she found her ex already backing away from her. It still caught her off guard sometimes to see him without his signature red hoodie. Its absence, though, had nothing to do with the heat and everything to do with Roy finally being comfortable in his own skin, in his own identity, and not needing to hide or disguise himself any longer. “And, if you can’t see that, then maybe I should pity you.”   
  
Once he was gone, Thea faced the river once more. But she didn’t stare into the distance or watch her brother and his family. Instead, she just… followed the ambling, curvy lines of the mountain stream, wanting it to carry her, and her rage, and her regrets away with its currents. For good. 

**I'm so hard to handle  
** **I'm selfish and I'm sad  
** **Now I've gone and lost the best baby  
** **That I ever had  
** **Oh, I wish I had a river  
** **I could skate away on**

“We wanted you to be the first to know.”   
  
“Well, besides us, of course,” Felicity interjected, sharing a secret, married glance with Thea’s brother. “And my doctor. Obviously.”   
  
Oliver once more picked up the conversation thread. “Because maybe our news can give you hope.”   
  
They still hadn’t actually said that Felicity was pregnant. Even without the words, however, it was obvious - had been now for weeks. Oliver and Felicity, cocooned in their nauseatingly perfect bubble, were blind to just how often, just how covetously, just how disgustedly and sullenly Thea watched them. They were always a very tactile couple, but, since learning that they were expecting their fourth child together, Oliver’s hands inevitably found their way onto his wife as often as possible. He supported the small of her back. He whispered his thumb against her lower belly - back and forth over the faded c-section scar from Abel’s harrowing birth. He’d wrap his arms around her from behind, pulling her back to rest against him, rocking them both gently from side to side.    
  
For reasons Thea refused to examine, she realized that she didn’t want to hear them make their announcement. She  _ couldn’t _ . “Or maybe you want to rub my face in yet something else you can have but I cannot.”   
  
Looking absolutely crushed, Felicity demurred, “Oh, I didn’t…”   
  
But Oliver didn’t let his wife finish voicing her regret, nor did he allow his sister to get away with her hurtful remarks. “That’s enough, Thea!”   
  
“You’re right. It  _ is  _ enough,” she threw back at him. But she wasn’t relenting, and she certainly wouldn’t apologize. “I am  _ so sick  _ of how  _ she  _ constantly belittles me, taunts me with her… fake concern and kindness. It’s infuriating, and it’s insulting.”   
  
Felicity defended herself. “I’m not faking anything, Thea. I’m trying to be your friend.”   
  
“First Roy, now you,” she screamed. “What is it with the two of you and wanting to pretend like you care? Are you trying to impress my brother, because - newsflash! - he doesn’t give a damn about me; I’m just a burden to him. I  _ stole months _ from him when he had to leave his precious family to nurse me back to  _ life _ … if you can even call  _ this  _ living. Or is it just so you can feel better about yourself? Befriend the cripple and move one level closer to sainthood. Well, guess what,” Thea baited. God, what she wouldn’t give to be able to stand up and walk away. Insults just didn’t have the same sting when delivered from a chair, and it was impossible to have the last word in an argument if you had to wheel yourself out of the room. “I don’t need my old pity screw, and I certainly don’t need you!”   
  
“Except you do, Thea,” Oliver argued with her. While he talked, Thea started to make her escape, but the big cabin was difficult for her to navigate, the space large but full with all of the trappings of a young, growing family. “If it wasn’t for Felicity, you’d have no one, and you can’t survive on your own, not now. It was Felicity who insisted that I go to you in Starling City, who insisted that we take you in. It was Felicity who created your new identity. Without it, surely someone would have found you by now, exacting their revenge for all of the terrible things you did. It was Felicity who found you your new therapist. If it wasn’t for Felicity, you’d have absolutely nothing to do with our children. I wanted to shield them from your darkness for as long as I could, but Felicity believes there’s still good in you. She loves me so much that she cannot accept that my sister could ever lose all of her light.”    
  
Thea was finally at the wall of French doors which would take her outside to the multi-level deck when Oliver went in for the kill. “It’s Felicity who is barely sleeping right now, despite her pregnancy...” - Thea cringed as that word rolled over her, though, with her back towards her brother and his wife, they couldn’t see just how much her heart  _ ached _ . She had never really thought about becoming a mother, and she wasn’t sure if she actually wanted a child, but knowing that it was an impossibility was devastating. - “... because she is determined to find a way, to invent a mechanism, to make you walk again.”   
  
“Stop. Don’t.” Thea ordered. She begged. “It doesn’t -”  _ I don’t  _ \- “matter.” With her quiet words ringing throughout the two storied great room, Thea opened a door and went outside.    
  
After coasting down the ramp, Thea turned towards the river instead of heading down to the smaller, lower cabin that was now hers after it became obvious that she couldn’t live with Oliver, Felicity, and their children. Roy moved out, taking over her brother’s guest room, and Thea moved in. It was odd - not having a penthouse or a vast estate in which to lose herself, but the privacy and solitude, while perhaps not beneficial to her mental health, were appreciated and necessary. Thea simply felt like she couldn’t breathe unless she was alone.    
  
In just a light sweater, she was chilled. Thea couldn’t wrap her mind around the mountain weather. The change from summer to fall had been abrupt and without a transition. While Starling City was often chilly and damp, the wind that whipped through her brother’s land was different. It cut through a person, the cold burrowing in and never letting go. It was even worse down in the clearing by the river. When Thea sat beside the now rapidly freezing waters, the night air would steal the very air from her lungs, seizing her chest. It was Thea’s favorite thing about Dearden Farms, though she could not picture what the snow, and the ice, and the frigidness of deep and true winter would be like.    
  
She heard the steps approaching from behind her long before the person cleared their throat to announce their presence. At first, Thea presumed it was Oliver, wanting to continue their earlier fight, but her trained and finely honed senses quickly disabused her of that assumption. Perhaps she could no longer walk, or run, or fight, but her body had yet to fail her completely. The less sure, more hesitant gait could only belong to one person.   
  
“Go away, Harper.” For more than two months, he fought her on the name, but, eventually, Roy stopped protesting. Thea believed it was because he just... didn’t care.    
  
“You’re an idiot.”   
  
Chuckling mirthlessly, Thea snarked, “way to kick a girl when she’s already -  _ and always _ \- down. Or, at least, seated.”   
  
Ignoring her and refusing to engage in her defeatism, self-indulgent banter, Roy said, “I know earlier with Oliver and Felicity was… difficult for you, so my timing could not be worse, but I want to be upfront with you. No matter what you might think or feel about me now, there was a time when I loved you. Out of respect for what you once meant to me and for everything you did for me when you sent me here, I feel like I owe you that much - my honesty.”   
  
Sighing in exhaustion, Thea directed, “just spit it out already!”   
  
And Roy seemed to take her command seriously, because his confession was practically hurled at her… or at least that’s how it felt. “I met someone.” Roy’s words left Thea speechless. They  _ gutted _ her. “I… it’s only been a few weeks, but I really like her. Her name is Sandra, and she….”   
  
“I  _ really  _ don’t need or want to know,” Thea interrupted her ex, cutting him off from continuing to tell her about his new girlfriend.   
  
“Right.”   
  
Just as the idea of a baby, of wanting a child of her own, had never occurred to Thea until she was forced to confront the reality of her brother and his wife having their fourth, she didn’t think about reuniting with Roy again until that option was taken away from her, too. Hell, Thea didn’t even know if she was still attracted to him. Her heart, mind, and body were so confused because of her injuries, because she had died, because of the things she had done and the things done to her that Thea wasn’t sure about anything. But she had assumed that Roy would always be there… just in case. However, now he was gone.   
  
No, that wasn’t right.    
  
Roy had once and for all, truly moved on.    
  
Soon, Thea wouldn’t just have to think about what it would be like to never experience life’s most important relationships; she’d have to confront them head on. Felicity’s growing baby bump, then an actual living, breathing baby. Roy’s love. Even if his dating was a new development, it was also serious. Roy would never have said anything otherwise. Before she knew it, before she was ready (she’d never be ready), he’d introduce her to Oliver and Felicity. The couples would probably double date. She’d become the friend, the sister, to Felicity that Thea was neither capable nor interested in being. Roy would marry her, have children with her, and Thea would have to stand by - no, not stand;  _ sit.  _ Thea would have to  _ sit _ by and accept the loss of everything she was too damaged to even realize she wanted.   
  
Staring at the river, its waters somehow blacker than the night, Thea found herself contemplating a different future - one of peace. Because maybe she didn’t have to confront anything.    
  
“Just leave.” She didn’t say to leave her  _ alone _ , because that just would have been redundant. When Roy didn’t listen, when he didn’t turn tail and run back to  _ his _ family or to his new, wonderful,  _ whole  _ girlfriend, Thea roared, “go!”   
  
Without even an apology or a goodbye, Roy did just that. He walked away, and it felt like forever. 

**I wish I had a river so long  
** **I would teach my feet to fly  
** **Oh, I wish I had a river  
** **I could skate away on  
** **I made my baby say goodbye**

The stars really did appear closer - bigger, and brighter, and more beautiful - out in the middle of nowhere. Thea was aware of the principle of light pollution, but it didn’t really mean anything to her until she looked up on that New Year’s Eve night and really and truly saw the sky for what felt like the first time. It took her breath away.    
  
Or maybe that was the drowning?

_ It's a girl! We’re having a girl! _

When Thea joined her brother, his wife, their children, Roy, his girlfriend, and her son - her twelve year old  _ son _ !, she couldn’t have predicted how her evening would end. It wasn’t planned. But the idea of just… floating, or gliding, or even being carried away had taken root that cold, October night when Roy first told her about Sandra. It sunk its claws into Thea, and it never let go. And, now, here she was. 

_ We’d like to name her after you, Thea. _

In everyone else’s excitement for the new year and, most especially, the new baby, Thea had been able to slip away without anyone noticing her disappearance. The fact that no one followed her down to the river meant that her absence had gone undetected as well. And it wasn’t like she rushed the trip towards the clearing either. She couldn’t even if she wanted to, the copious amounts of snow making the trip even more difficult. Oliver did his best to plow trails for her around the farm, and the path between the cabins and the clearing by the river was an often traveled one, but that actually made it even more treacherous - the repetitive trips compacting the snow until it formed ice. So, Thea took her time, navigating the slippery ground, and she wasn’t in a hurry, because she didn’t need to act before she lost her nerve or second guessed herself. There was no decision to end her life. It was simply what needed to happen - for everyone... but most of all for Thea herself.

_ Because she isn’t just going to be our daughter; she’s also going to be  _ your  _ niece. _

She heard the first crack before her chair was even entirely on the ice, but she kept going, kept turning the wheels and rolling herself towards the center of the just frozen over river. When the first solid skin of the season had appeared just after Thanksgiving, Oren and Abel started begging their parents to take them skating, but Oliver and Felicity refused, explaining that the ice wasn’t thick enough. A month went by, and the early winter days proved fickle. The temperatures would fall, and the sky would dump snow by the foot, but then a melting would occur - not enough to reveal the green of buried grass but enough to keep the river in a perpetual state of limbo and the Dearden boys on the razor fine edge of impatient anticipation. Perhaps the ice wasn’t ready for a hockey match, but it was perfect for what Thea needed. It held firm until she was in the very center of the river, and then it just… let go.

_ We thought, by giving her a piece of you, you could feel like a part of her. _

It took a few moments before the river’s water, still running wildly beneath the icy surface, caught her and swept her away. Before leaving the safety of the clearing, Thea had unsnapped her seatbelt, bending down to unhook her feet from their restraints. Once she broke through, her chair sank quickly, leaving Thea to float. It was an odd sensation, feeling her torso and arms, her neck and shoulders turn as numb and dead as her paralyzed legs. At first, it was the pain of a thousand needles, and then it burned like only the coldest cold could, and then there was just… nothing. Oddly enough, she liked that sensation the best, because it matched what she had been feeling in her heart for far longer than just since her death and rebirth.    
  
The last thing Thea consciously saw was a shooting star, which she found to be ironic, because what she was witnessing was actually a meteor; shooting stars didn’t exist… just like now she ceased to exist, too. 

**It's coming on Christmas  
** **They're cutting down trees  
** **They're putting up reindeer  
** **Singing songs of joy and peace  
** **I wish I had a river  
** **I could skate away on**

Thora Selene Dearden came silently into the world under a full moon and a March sky alive and trembling with thunder. Her parents would say that the moment of her birth would be the last time she was ever quiet.   
  
“Hey, Aunt Thea,” the nine, almost ten year old greeted the mountains and the forest, the solid river, the clearing where, instead of stone to mark her Aunt’s passing, there stood a bench. It was Thora’s favorite place in the whole world… or at least what little of it she had explored so far. Her Aunt had a proper grave back in Starling City where she was believed to have died a full year before she had intentionally wheeled herself onto ice that was too thin, collapsed through, and drowned. Because of her namesake’s suicide, Thora never would have been allowed to go down to the river by herself unless her Mom and Dad were absolutely positive that the ice was thick, and sturdy, and unbreakable. “God, they still treat me like a baby, which I’m obviously not, and it’s totally unfair now that they have Shai… an actual baby.”   
  
These conversations Thora had with her Aunt were a strange combination of spoken complaints and silent contemplations. But she felt like Thea could hear both… maybe not in a traditional sense, but Thora also believed that her Aunt would somehow just know, that she would get it  _ unlike  _ her clueless, super embarrassing parents. She nearly  _ died  _ when she had to tell her friends that her Mom was going to have another baby. Her parents were  _ old _ \- Dad had gray hair, and Mom couldn’t wear her pretty heels anymore because of her arthritis, but they were always touching, and hugging, and kissing. It was disgusting. And so weird!   
  
“But I guess it’s better than if they were always fighting.” Or got a divorce like so many of her friends’ parents. “And maybe they’ll let me do more cool stuff now… like go to space camp this summer! Mom always says that I can’t leave her alone with all of the  _ athletes _ , but, now, she won’t be alone, because she’ll have Shai. Even if Shai ends up liking sports, too, like Dad, and Oren, and Abel, and Rina, she won’t be able to actually  _ do  _ anything when she’s only just eight months old.”   
  
But this summer would also be Oren’s last before college, so her Mom would probably want all of them to be together, and Dad would insist upon all kinds of family adventures. Even Thora had to admit that she would miss her big brother when he went off to school in the fall, so maybe space camp could wait another year? Plus, she liked working in the concession booth during Abel’s Little League games. The adults were always so impressed with her math skills that they bought her candy with their change, and Mom was always so proud that she let Thora eat as much of the candy as she wanted… as long as she shared  _ and  _ didn’t tell Dad. On top of that, Connor would be coming home from college for almost four whole months, and Thora  _ really  _ missed her cousin.    
  
“Okay, yeah, definitely  _ not  _ going to space camp this year. Or, well, next year,” she clarified. Because it would still be 2034 for a few more weeks.    
  
Thora wore long johns under her jeans, and her winter coat, boots, scarf, hat, and gloves were warm, but the wooden bench beneath her was cold, and it didn’t help matters that she was entirely stretched out along its length, her head propped up on one of the arms while her lower legs and feet dangled up and over the other. She should have brought a blanket with her… or some of her Dad’s magical hot chocolate. Even after the tree lot closed for the season every year, he still made a fresh batch every day, because he said it was the reason why her Mom had fallen in love with him. Thora didn’t know about all of that. It just seemed like more of her Dad’s silly, romantic nonsense. But it was  _ really  _ good cocoa.    
  
“I just had to get out of there, you know? Clear my head and… breathe. Shai was crying, and Rina was practicing the piano, so Dad and the boys kept turning the volume up on the game louder, and louder, and louder until I thought I would scream! Mom was the one who actually suggested that I come see you. As soon as she said the words ‘Aunt Thea’s bench’ and ‘river,’ I threw on my winter clothes and  _ ran _ , which, I’ll have you know, is pretty darn fast.” For a split second, she had considered grabbing her skates, so, for a few minutes at least, it would feel like she could literally just skate away. But that seemed like too much work, and Thora really didn’t actually want to go anywhere. She just wished sometimes that her family wasn’t so…  _ much _ . She loved him. A lot. But seriously, they were all totally bonkers.    
  
“Dad says that’s how I’m like you, you know,” Thora stood, stretched, readying herself for the sprint back up towards her family’s cabin and for rejoining the madness. Wherever she went, Thora always raced there as fast as she could, because why walk when you could run? Turning away from the clearing and the river, she said her last words to her Aunt while taking her first step forward, yelling into the winter wind over her shoulder, “he calls me Speedy!”

**Author's Note:**

> Oliver and Felicity's Children (in order of their birth)
> 
> Oren: "Pine", Hebrew  
> Abel: "Breath", Hebrew; there are also references to the second son  
> Rina: "Joy", Hebrew  
> Thora Selene: "Thunder Goddess", Norse and "Moon Goddess", Greek (Thea means "Goddess" in Greek)  
> Shai: "Gift", Hebrew
> 
> Also, in this universe, Sandra and Connor Hawke do not have ANY connection to Oliver... other than that which Sandra's marriage to Roy and his adoption of Connor would naturally bring with it. I wanted recognizable names... and perhaps even a hint of Team Arrow's future generation (sans the Olicity children, of course) but not any of the drama of a drunken one night stand resulting in a secret child.


End file.
